Retail Therapy
by Laurielove
Summary: Bumping into her former Potions Master is the last thing Hermione expects when out on a shopping trip. However, sometimes the unexpected can bring with it positive benefits. SS/HG Post DH. Mature readers only, thank you.


**I'm still here. I'm still writing. I've been a little diverted recently, but Snape called to me so I answered.**

 **This starts out quite tamely and then becomes ... rather intense in true Laurielove fashion. It's a one-shot, set shortly after Hermione has finished Hogwarts. Snape conveniently is still alive. Enjoy. I loved writing this for you. x**

 ****WARNINGS** - There is some breath play although it does not involve any covering of the nose or mouth. There is also some element of, err, teeth. (You'll see what I mean.) This is not meant to imply Snape is a vampire. He isn't in this fic. Oh, and there's also a hell of a lot of dirty talk.**

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'Professor Snape! It _is_ you!'

The black haired man who had been staring into the bookshop window spun around as if preparing himself to come face to face with a curse. His thin face darted through a range of expressions from defence, shock and curiosity before finally settling on annoyance.

He said nothing, but Hermione noticed his shoulders relax a little from the tensely squared aggression he'd at first demonstrated.

'What are you doing in Camden?' she continued.

'I could ask you the same thing.' The voice was as cold and disdainful as always.

Hermione was undeterred. 'I'm meeting some friends for a shopping trip and then we're going for a meal. Tomorrow we're off for a spa day.'

His eyes narrowed. 'I don't understand.'

'Shopping, meal, spa. Which part don't you understand?'

'Why would someone like you find that entertaining?'

She laughed. 'Someone like me? What sort of things is someone like me supposed to like? I don't always want to be closeted up in a dungeon brewing potions and fighting dark magic, Professor.'

He frowned as if he really couldn't understand why she wouldn't and opened his mouth to retort but then thought better of it and turned away, looking back at the books in the window.

'It seems you're indulging in a little retail therapy yourself, Professor. Searching for a particular title?'

He looked slowly back at her as if surprised to find her still there. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Are you looking for something in particular?'

'Perhaps.'

'Anything I can help with?'

Another look of pure disdain. She found it almost amusing. 'No.'

'Fine. Well then, I suppose I'll leave you to it.' She was quite enjoying seeing him outside his usual domain. He was unsettled and it appealed to her. She'd try. 'Unless of course … you'd like to go and get a coffee.'

He turned to her with an expression of even more disbelief than before. 'A what?'

'Coffee. Muggles drink it a lot. Magical people do too. All the time. Or tea. Or hot chocolate even or anything in between. There's a really nice little place just round the corner from here. It's on me. It's not every day I bump into my Potions master in Camden.'

'No, thank you.'

'Oh, come on, Professor. It'll be different.'

He stared with such contempt she nearly gave up. 'I don't need 'different', Miss Granger.'

'Why are you here at all?'

'You really are the most presumptuous creature, aren't you? It is, if I must spell it out, absolutely no business of yours whatsoever.'

She gave a little sigh. 'Fine. You're right. I'm sorry. You know me, I have an innate curiosity, that's all.'

'Yes, I know you.'

She smiled. 'Come for coffee then. I won't bite.'

He turned and cocked a cynical eyebrow. 'But I still haven't found what I'm looking for.'

'I have climbed highest mountains, I have searched through the fields, only to be with you … only to be with you … but I still haven't found …' She lilted her response with a hint of the melody.

'Excuse me?' he sneered.

'It's a song. You provided a line from a song. U2. I was just filling in the rest.'

'Don't.'

'But in all seriousness, it might invigorate you to look somewhere else.' He didn't immediately say no again. She could tell he was vacillating. 'Come on.'

He said nothing and turned to ignore her. She gave up. 'Ah well. Never mind. Good bye then, Professor Snape. But I really do hope you find what you're looking for.'

She started to walk away.

'Is it far?'

Hermione stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. 'Is what far?'

'This coffee place.'

She tried to hide the smirk which tugged at her mouth. 'About two minutes away. Tucked away down a side street.'

'Come along then.' And he immediately strode off, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a moment to process this surprising turn of events then started off with him. 'This way.'

He didn't speak on the way. She stepped into the café and asked him what he wanted. He hesitated, staring at the board as if it were in a foreign language. 'Coffee.'

'What kind.'

'No, tea. Assam.'

'OK. Look, go and sit down. I'll bring it over.'

'I …' He seemed to suddenly remember himself and scrabbled in a pocket for a wallet, old, leather, worn. He held it in long, agile fingers. She liked the patina and imagined how his fingers had rendered it over the years.

'Please don't worry about that,' she said.

'I insist. I am not a charity case.'

'I'm buying you a coffee, Professor.'

'I'm not sure that's acceptable.'

'Why not?'

'You're my student.'

'Not any longer.'

'Barely.'

'Not any longer,' she reiterated.

He still held the five pound note out to her and she took it reluctantly. 'Thank you.'

'Umm … And yours. Pay for yours too,' he muttered before turning and finding a table, deep in the far corner.

She bought two pieces of lemon cake too and went and sat with him. The conversation did not immediately flow, but she hardly expected it to.

'So … what have you been up to?' she tried.

'Up to?'

'Over the summer.'

'Nothing to interest you.'

'That's not true. I'm interested in everything.'

'Don't be.'

'Why not?'

'It doesn't involve you.'

'Sorry. You're right. I can be presumptuous.'

'Hm.'

She thought she could detect the slightest smirk. He held his cup in those long fingers again. She found herself staring at them. They almost compelled her to. 'Have you been at Hogwarts much?' she asked.

'Why would I be there outside term time?'

She shrugged. 'I don't know. You spend most of your time there … Familiarity, perhaps?'

'May I remind you that you know little to nothing of my life, Miss Granger?'

'I'm sorry.'

'You apologise a lot. Spare yourself by not asking impertinent questions in the first place.'

'So … you've been busy elsewhere?'

He tutted with a sneer. 'Do you never learn?'

'Oh, I learn very quickly, Professor. I thought you of all people would know that.'

He hesitated, his eyes narrowed and she felt a curl of satisfaction. He really did have gloriously dark eyes. The pupils were so black they looked unfeasibly large. She found herself staring and realised he was staring back.

With a sudden intake of breath he said, 'If you must know I have been working for the Ministry.'

'I see.'

This time she waited, sensing he would say more.

'There are still certain elements which require eradication … I need not tell you this, Miss Granger. Your work is along these lines.'

'I haven't worked with you though.'

He raised his eyes to her again. 'No. Not yet, gladly.'

'Oh, would it be so bad to work together?' she teased, leaning forward a little and giving him a half smile. 'I think it would be quite fascinating to work with you.'

'I prefer solitary methods.'

'Doing it on your own?'

'Yes.'

'You'll never know until you've tried it, Professor.'

He looked up at her. 'I have tried it. Many times.'

'With success?'

'Varied.'

She licked her lips, she wasn't sure why or even aware she'd done it. Her cheeks were flushed, she could tell. 'Well then,' she dared. 'Perhaps you should try it again. With me.'

A cough caught his throat and he took a long drink to ease it. She lowered her head to hide her smirk. She knew exactly what she'd said and so did he. And, in that moment, Hermione Granger knew that she meant it.

He glanced around and pulled on his cuffs. She found it hideously alluring. 'I really should not be doing this with a student.'

'I'm not your student any longer, remember?'

'You were. You always will be in my mind.'

'And I suppose you'll always be my Professor, but that's not such a bad thing, is it?'

'It can be.'

'When?'

'When you find that –' He broke off and closed his lips forcibly.

She let the moment seep in then tried, 'I hope you were able to get a break of some sorts this summer.'

'Of some sorts.'

'Did you go away … with anyone?'

He darted a look at her. 'I told you, Miss Granger, I prefer solitude.'

'Sometimes you can find someone with whom you can be alone … together.'

'Only if that person doesn't perpetually _talk._ '

She let out a giggle. 'Are you telling me I'm too chatty, Professor?'

'Why would I be referring to you?'

'No reason, but … this is nice, don't you think?'

'Nice?'

'Hmm. Sitting with you now. No books, no rules, no exams … just you and me.'

He said nothing but took another drink.

'I don't blame you for wanting solitude after what you've been through.'

He slowly lifted his gaze to her again. 'And what exactly have I been through, Miss Granger?'

'You nearly died, Professor.' She would tell it like it was.

He barely hesitated. 'Nearly … but _not - quite_.'

The words sat so deliciously on his tongue she could almost taste them on hers. She couldn't help smile. His ability to deal with the hell he'd dealt with was admirable. She had been through much the same – on the run, hunted, tortured. She looked steadily at him as he drank. How similar they were.

'Can I get you another tea?'

He paused briefly, but responded entirely naturally, 'Very well … Thank you.'

She smiled softly and went to the counter, glancing back at him after she'd ordered. She'd split up with Ron three months ago. There hadn't been anyone since. Would it be so bad? God, no. It would be incredible, she was sure of it. Let's face it, she'd fancied him for an age. He was the original guilty crush, the one you couldn't talk about, the one you couldn't explain. But she couldn't look at those cheekbones without wanting to touch them, couldn't see the buttons without wanting to undo them, couldn't watch those fingers without wanting them …

'£5.69, please,' interrupted the barista. She was jolted out of her daydream.

'Sorry! Of course. Here you are.' She handed over the money and took the tray over to the table.

'Thank you,' he said, rich and mellifluous. Desire reared up in her relentlessly.

'How is your work progressing, Miss Granger?'

It was a remarkably even question.

'Very well. We're focused on searching buildings known to have Dark energy.'

'With success?'

'Yes … but it's exhausting. It takes a lot out of me.'

'It will. You need considerable strength, but then …'

'What?'

'You have it.'

'I think that's the first compliment you've ever given me.'

'Don't get used to it.'

Hermione laughed and curled her hair behind her ear. He watched as she did it. They sat and drank contentedly, sometimes talking about their work, sometimes in an easy silence. It never felt awkward, it never had. She stared at his fingers, long, strong.

'I'm sorry for asking so many questions. I wonder a lot,' she said.

'You do.'

'It can be a problem. It can get me into trouble.'

'I'd noticed.'

She smirked. He did too. Slightly.

'For instance …'

'Yes?'

'I wonder about you, Professor.'

'Do you?'

'Yes.'

'What is it you wonder about me, Miss Granger?'

She paused briefly, deliberately, and let her tongue dampen her lips. 'I wonder what it would be like to kiss you.'

His eyes widened, surprised, and immediately retreated again. He said nothing but neither did he appear overly embarrassed or offended, despite a slight tinge of pink on those acute cheekbones.

'I've wondered for a long time. Longer than I should admit to.'

He swallowed and she noticed his nostrils flare to pull in air.

'I think about it a lot. I've thought about it all the while we've been sitting here.'

'How am I supposed to respond to that, Miss Granger?'

'You don't have to respond at all. But I want you to know ... I want you to know how attractive you are.'

For a time he simply looked at her. For a time there was perfect silence and stillness between them. For a time he took it and fed on it. For a time she wondered if he would reach over and kiss her there and then.

But then, suddenly, with a loud scrape of his chair, he stood up. 'I must leave.'

'You don't have to.'

He gathered his things rapidly.

She ran her fingers through her hair, suddenly acutely aware of how ridiculous she'd been. 'I'm sorry. I've embarrassed you and I shouldn't have. It was stupid of me.'

He glanced about, fussing with things. 'I need to find that book.'

'Can I walk with you?' She stood and picked up her things too.

'No! Well … if you must … I … I do not know!'

'Professor, please. I loved this time with you. I'm sorry if I have spoiled it.'

He stood, jaw clenched, as if wrestling with some inner conflict. But then he spun on his heels. 'I'm leaving now.'

She hurried after him, desperate to make amends. 'Professor!'

He strode determinedly on, turning left and right down side streets and cut-throughs. She could barely keep up with him. But then he stopped, suddenly, in a quiet passageway. He stopped and looked back at her, then took rapid steps towards her so fast it was intimidating. She stepped back instinctively and bumped against the wall.

His eyes narrowed, his height loomed over her. 'You do ... _insist_ , don't you, Miss Granger?'

'What do you mean?' She was breathing rapidly. Her heart beat echoed loud in her ears.

He was right up close to her, his eyes searing over her, taking in every detail. 'You say you have wondered …'

She waited. She could smell that exotic sensuousness of him. It drifted into her senses with unseemly need.

'You think I have not?' he said, low, his eyes still casting over her face. 'Just like you, I have wondered … and I have _wanted_.'

She held his gaze, staring into that impenetrable blackness. 'Then take.'

And in the next moment, she wasn't sure what came first, his hand rose up, long fingers curled around the back of her neck, his thumb caught her chin, pressing, almost pulling down to open her for him, and he was kissing her.

His mouth on hers, his breath in hers, his lips against hers. He took and she gave. She gasped against him – shock, joy, confusion, all in one – but it was swallowed into him. His thumb dragged her mouth open. He needed her open; he needed her heat and her wet hunger. His lips – certain, brutal – opened her further and his tongue quested in immediately. She gave him her own and the brutality of their kiss hurt, but she wanted it, she took it.

He grunted as he tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged, angling her head to take her mouth with intrusive certainty. He pressed her into the wall and the long, lean length of him pinned her there. She could barely move her arms but when she found them free she could do no more than grip him hard, holding his head to her, gasping into him, moaning, sobbing with need.

At last he dragged himself from her mouth, so possessively his teeth caught her lip and broke the skin. She licked the blood off and tasted it bitter in her mouth compared to the sweetness of his saliva.

His mouth dragged down her neck, grazing, sucking, bite, bite … she felt teeth close on the join at her shoulder and she exulted in it. He could draw blood if he wanted. He could suck her out if he wanted.

'More, more …' she murmured, delirious with need.

His hand was between her legs and she managed to reach down to grip hold of his wrist and pull it fast into her.

'Touch me. I'm yours. I've always been yours,' she gasped.

He didn't even bother to pull down her underwear. His fingers pushed the material aside and instantly his forefinger was inside her. Deep. High. Right up inside her. She mewled with satisfaction.

'Yesss,' he hissed, his breath ragged. 'Yes, yes, yes.'

'Oh fuck, fuck,' she managed, barely.

'Dirty, filthy girl.'

'Your girl. Anything. Tell me what you want.'

'No. You say it. Say those words.' With that he pushed in another finger to join the first.

'Professor …' she managed as he pumped them inside her.

'Merlin take me, but you are wet.'

'It's for you. Fuck me, oh fuck me. I want your cock. I want your cock in my cunt, Professor.'

'Miss Granger … such filth.'

'You want it.'

'Oh yes. I have wanted it more than you could ever imagine.'

'Here. Fuck me here, right now.' She quickly wriggled free of her underwear then reached down and scrabbled for his belt. 'Let me see you. Let me feel it. Please, hurry.'

She could scarcely draw breath let alone speak. His own desperation got the better of him and he undid his trousers quickly, pushing them down just enough.

There.

Long and thick and hard. She almost wept. 'Put it in me. Put it deep inside me,' she implored.

'Are you always this demanding, girl? But of course you are. How could I forget?'

'Oh, fuck me, hurry, hurry up and fuck me!' She took hold of the base of his cock and moaned again. 'God, you're hard!'

'I'm always hard for you. Do you know how difficult it's been to hide it?'

'Don't hide it now.' She curled a leg around him and he reached down to clasp her backside, spreading her cheeks apart to ease his entry.

She locked eyes with him, saw the darkening of his, and he thrust.

'Fuck!' she exclaimed as his cock buried itself inside her, high, hard, pressing against her cervix instantly.

'Yes!' he answered, slurring. 'You are tight, Miss Granger. Merlin, you are tight and good.'

'That's full,' she gasped and let his cock take more of her weight to feel the stretching pain of it. 'Oh fuck, that's full.'

'Keep talking, girl. Keep saying that filth of yours.'

He pulled out a little, slowly, and read her every expression. Her eyelids fluttered, her mouth gaped. 'I can feel every inch of your cock.' He continued pulling out slowly. Her brows creased. 'Don't leave me. Don't leave my cunt. I want it full of you. Fuck me, fuck me hard with your cock.'

Slower this time, he pushed up inside her again.

'Yes, that's it! Right there. I feel it, I feel it,' she cried.

When he was fully inside her again, she clung to his shoulders and lifted her legs up, curling them around him and pressing herself back against the wall.

'I want you to drive into me. I want you to drive through my cunt hard.'

He pulled out and forced every inch of his cock back into her with determined brutality. 'Like that?'

It hurt and she threw her head back with the force of it. 'Yes! Like that!'

He did it again, right up against her cervix, cramming every thick, hard inch of himself into her.

'Like that?' he grunted, his words propelled out with the force of his thrust.

'Yes! Again! Oh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!'

'Am I hurting you?' He drove forward, knowing he would.

'Yes,' she nodded.

'Do you like it hurting?'

'Yes.'

'You're even more fascinating than I thought, Miss Granger.' He drove in again, harder than ever, making her back scrape along the wall, making her cunt absorb him, making her body take and take.

'I love that. I love that. I love your cock.'

'Good … because I find I rather like your cunt.'

'Say that again.'

'I love your cunt, Miss Granger. I want to bury myself in your tight, hot cunt and stay there.'

'Do it, do it, do it.'

He ploughed relentlessly back and forth now, filling her, letting her wet flesh relinquish him then thrusting hard back up to embed himself inside her time and again.

She whined, clawing at him, giving him her mouth which he attacked voraciously just as his cock inhabited her body.

'I don't want it to end,' she whined, almost incoherent as her body rose and fell along him. 'I want to come but I don't want it to end.'

'Oh, but I'm going to make you come, girl. I'm going to make you come so hard, you'll beg me for more.'

She gripped his head and turned it up to her, staring hard into him, digging her fingers into his scalp so hard she scratched. 'Yes. I'm begging. I'm begging for more now.'

He slowed slightly and let the hard length of him slide in and out almost insolently now. He angled himself so that his strokes caught her clit. She was so ready anyway that the slightest touch of it would break her.

'Ohh!' she gasped, eyes wide. 'There!'

'Hold your breath,' he demanded. 'Don't breathe.'

She sucked in a gulp of air then clamped her mouth shut and held it.

He moved slowly but surely, without the insistent brutality of earlier, but with concentrated determination.

So close. Oh fuck, so close. Building.

'Do you feel it?' he asked, his voice rasping.

She nodded, desperate not to gulp in air. She needed to. Her lungs were beginning to protest.

'Don't breathe,' he reiterated, sensing her discomfort.

Slowly, surely, building. Stroking, catching, filling, fucking, _fucking ..._ _fucking_.

Nearly there. Her lungs pained her, but her cunt adored it. Her clit swelled for him, reaching out for his cock to catch it, which it did time and time and time again. And, cock inside, full, hard, stretched.

Lungs screamed, cunt screamed, clit screamed.

She came. _Fuck, she came_.

Rapture broke and billowed with such relentless force the world went black. She was lost. She forgot her surroundings, forgot her purpose.

It raged through her and still she determinedly clamped her mouth shut and forced herself not to inhale.

And still she came. Hard. Ripping its way through her body.

Just as it started to ripple out, he said, 'Look at me. Look at me.'

She locked her wide, staring eyes with his.

'Breathe.'

Hermione opened her mouth and gasped, much needed air flowing back into her in a great rush which sent another jolt of pleasure pounding through her. And that was his undoing. His fingers clenched on her backside and he erupted. Forcing his cock as deep as he could, he came violently, shooting his come deep into her cunt, plugging it into her with his fullness, cramming it hard and high. The sound of him coming would live with her.

When at last they were both spent, they fell down the wall, managing somehow to stay joined. They lay slumped against it, a panting, gasping mess of bodies and limbs.

'Fuck … fuck …' she managed.

'I don't recall you using language like that in your essays, Miss Granger.'

She tried to glare at him but only managed an exhausted laugh. 'God, that was incredible. It always was going to be. It was inevitable, it was inevitable.'

'Yes,' he stated.

'Shit,' she said with sudden realisation. 'I've forgotten to meet my friends.'

'Your shopping trip?'

She tutted. 'So much for that. Still … I know what I prefer.'

'What now?' he asked, his voice a little wary.

Hermione reassured him with a bleary smile. 'We can't stay here. Thank God no one came past.' She glanced around. 'And it's filthy.'

'Like you.'

She grinned and he reached in and kissed her hard again. 'I can still feel you.' She clenched on his cock and caused him to hiss. 'I don't want you to come out of me.'

'No, but it might be necessary for a time.'

She laughed aloud and then said, 'There's a hotel around the corner.'

'That will do nicely.' Reluctantly, he fell from her and held his hand down to help her to her feet. She dragged herself up and dusted down her clothes.

'How long have you got?' she asked.

'Long enough.'

She gave him a teasing smirk as they made their way to the hotel. 'You never found what you were looking for, Professor.'

He held her eyes and she noticed the slightest rise at the corner of his mouth. 'Oh, Miss Granger … How wrong you are.'

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 **Hope you enjoyed! I loved writing for him again - it's been a while. For those waiting for my Lumione fics - I will return to them. I don't abandon stories. I've been diverted by other fandoms recently (Victoria and The Man in the High Castle - can't think what they have in common ...) and you'll find those stories on Archive of Our Own (AO3) under the same penname. You can still find me on my Facebook page (Laurielove) and Twitter (at LaurieloveFics)**

 **Reviews are still bloody wonderful, so if you fancy leaving something, you'll make me very happy indeed.**

 **Lots of Laurielove xxxx**


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